Whether anyone in the office heard Sam speak was open to debate, but since he received neither dirty looks nor blows to the head, he supposed that he was safe enough. And of course, he had right on his side. Why pay for entertainment when you could sit in the Deputy Chief of Staff's office and watch him and his assistant bicker with each other like this? Of course, this was one of the times where the bickering had a little bit of an edge, but so much the better.

This had been a regular part of Sam's week ever since the "Bartlet for America" campaign, and it was a part of the week that he enjoyed, a part of the week that he looked forward to. It was unscheduled, unpredictable, but nonetheless it was highly entertaining. This week's topic of debate was should Donna leave in the next five minutes for a girl's night out with the rest of the assistants? So far, the consensus had Josh on the no side, Donna on the yes side, and CJ had stuck her head in the door to weigh in on Donna's behalf. Josh had looked beseechingly at Sam, well, as beseechingly as Josh was capable of looking, begging Sam without words to help him out. Sam had merely waved a hand and told his friend, "Hey, I'm just here for the entertainment."

He was lucky that CJ had been the far side of the room, or he'd have been slapped around the back of the head for sure. As it was, the looks that he'd got from her, Josh and Donna were downright scary.

"For the last time Joshua." Donna's voice was clipped, and Sam knew from that, and the fact that she'd broken out the Joshua, that she was rapidly reaching the end of her tether. "There is nothing to do here tonight that cannot wait until Monday morning. This is Saturday evening, and I have plans. I have had plans all week. I have planned for these plans Joshua and I intend to enjoy them!"

Two Joshuas in one burst thought Sam. Deal with that Josh.

He should have known that that was red rag to a bull for Josh. "C'mon Donna, you're just going to sit around with the rest of the assistants and bitch about your bosses."

"No Joshua. We are going to go out and have a good time. With, I might add, two fabulously attractive men."

Sam's ears pricked up at that, this being the first that he'd heard of men being involved. From what he'd overheard in the bullpen courtesy of Cathy, Bonnie and Ginger, this was strictly a girls' night out. Josh, on the other hand, was obviously privy to their plans because he snorted in disgust. "Those two men, Donnatella," -and Sam could never put into mere words the sarcasm contained in that "Donnatella"- "are going to be ten feet tall, on a movie screen."

"Yes! Two good looking men who know what to say and won't involve me in conversations like this!" Donna threw up her hands before stomping out of the office, and as she was passing, Sam distinctly heard her mutter, "And he wonders why I want to go."

Josh obviously didn't plan on this being the end of the discussion, because he followed her out, and Sam, not wanting to miss the final act of "Masterpiece Theatre", did likewise. He was just in time to see Donna's partners in crime converging on her desk. Margaret, Cathy, Bonnie, Ginger and Carol all looked as if they were ready for a good time, and Sam realised that Donna had changed into an outfit slightly dressier than she usually wore for work. "Ladies," he greeted them. "You all look lovely."

A pleased chorus greeted his words, save one male voice muttering something about silver tongued Judases that Sam chose to ignore.

"You ready Donna?" Bonnie asked. "We don't want to miss the movie."

"What are you going to see?" Sam asked politely.

"Some ridiculous follow up to some chick flick."

Margaret gave Josh a look that was known around the West Wing as a Leo classic before smiling at Sam. "Still Keeping the Faith" she told him.

"It's the sequel to Keeping the Faith." Ginger added.

Sam blinked, remembering the first one. "How are they making a sequel to that? The rabbi got the girl, the priest stayed a priest, the end."

Josh threw Donna a triumphant look as Margaret shrugged. "Well, you see, they got married, and then there's this girl that comes into it and she tries to get him to…"

"Must we hear the whole plot?" Josh whined.

"Yeah Margaret." Bonnie was Josh's unlikely ally. "Let's not spoil the movie for ourselves."

"And after the movie," Donna spoke pointedly to Josh, putting on her coat as she did so. "We're going to dinner. There may be dancing afterwards. There will be no work. No discussion of work. No thoughts of work. Until. Monday."

With a toss of her hair, she was gone down the hall, surrounded by the other women. Josh and Sam were left looking at each other. Josh shrugged. "You want to get a beer?"

Sam shook his head, his mind not really on his friend, nor on the women who had just left the building. "Nah. I'm just gonna…" He made a vague gesture with his hand, indicating that he was going to head home.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"OK." Josh chuckled suddenly. "Just don't go anywhere near that chick flick. Can you imagine having to sit through that?"

If Josh noticed the look on Sam's face at that, he never said anything. "No," Sam said softly, turning away. "Not at all."

>*<*>*<
Hollywood never fails to make a sequel
For each and every movie that does well
Why can't love be more like that
Where the best ones get a second chance
And that way though you're gone
It wouldn't be that long till
>*<*>*<

He made his way down the hall to his office, through the now deserted bullpen. He closed the office door behind him, and rested against it for a moment, his spine perfectly straight as Josh had always advised. It didn't do a thing for him.

His mind was on the film that Donna and the rest had gone to see. "Still Keeping the Faith" he muttered to himself.

He hadn't known that they were making a sequel to that film, hadn't seen the trailers, the TV spots, the advertisements in magazines. He was busy helping to run the country for crying out loud, when did he have time for any of that? And, like Josh said, it was a chick flick. Not something that he'd be interested in seeing.

Except he'd seen the first one.

He hadn't heard anything about that either, but he'd gone to see it anyway. And much to his surprise, he'd enjoyed it. There were some really funny moments in it, moments that had him laughing out loud. And if the ending was a touch sappy, a tad trite, well, that was the genre of the piece wasn't it? To be expected. You didn't go into a film like that expecting death and destruction and tragedy. You went for the happy ending.

He'd forgotten Hollywood's obsession with sequels, and every movie that did good business having to have one.

If only that were true in real life.

He sat down heavily in his chair, and almost against his will, he remembered the original film, the time he'd seen that. It was a nice memory, a good memory. A memory he didn't take out and visit too often.

It was the memory of his first - and only - date with Mallory.

>*<*>*<
I'd see you in part two
And we'd pick up where we left off
When I lost you
And we'd fall in love again
And change the way the story ends
Yeah, we'd bring back me and you
In part two
>*<*>*<

It was a Sunday morning in April that had started off as a bright spring day. Sam had finally engineered a day off - whoever had proclaimed Sunday as a day of rest obviously had never worked in the White House - and he and Mallory were going to spend the day together. It started off well. He arrived at her house, at exactly nine o'clock, and took her out to breakfast. They'd gone to a small café that Mallory knew, and had spent a pleasurable hour, taking their time over breakfast, talking and catching up with each other. They hadn't seen much of each other since the day after the Mendoza confirmation, when they'd had that meeting and followed it up with lunch. This was going to be their day together, a day when they would finally have their elusive first date. Sam had plans. Involving the outdoors, walks hand in hand, a picnic maybe.

He hadn't counted on sudden clouds gathering while they were inside eating their breakfast. Hadn't counted on torrents of rain falling from the sky.

Mallory, who had heard all of Sam's plans ad nauseum over the phone and was looking forward to them, couldn't stop the disappointment from showing on her face when they stepped foot outside the café. She covered it up quickly, but not so quickly that Sam didn't see it. "Well, I guess we've got a change in plans Skipper."

Sam looked up and down the street before seeing something that made him smile. "Guess so. C'mon." Grabbing her by the hand, he set off at a run down the street, heedless of the teeming rain. Mallory, taken by surprise, had no choice but to follow him, shrieking in shock as the rain hit her. She was barely able to see where they were going, and the look on her face when they got there was one of unbridled scepticism.

"The movies?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded, looking at the listings, a smile on his face.

"Sam, it's ten o'clock on Sunday morning."

"Yeah."

"Who goes to the movies at a time like this?"

He looked at her in surprise. "I used to do this all the time in New York."

"You did?"

"Yeah. No lines. You can get the best seats. The popcorn's just made. No howling kids. It's great." Mallory raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "OK, now you're looking just like your dad there, and you really shouldn't, because you're freaking me out."

Mallory stood in the same stance for a minute, then relaxed, joining him in looking at the listings. "Do I get to pick?"

"Sure." Sam's response was instant, but then he reconsidered his opinion. "As long as it's not some chick flick."

Mallory looked at him, and her look may or may not have reminded him further of Leo, but it was so fleeting that it was hard to tell. Her head swung back to the listings, and a smile crossed her face. That smile made Sam nervous. "C'mon Skipper," she said. "Let's get our tickets."

She led Sam over to the counter, and his face dropped when she calmly announced to the attendant, "Two for Keeping the Faith please. The 10.20 show."

"Mallory."

"Yes Sam?" The look she turned on him was all innocence.

"I think you may have misunderstood the restrictions that I placed on the choice of film."

"No, I understood perfectly. Pay the nice man Sam, we need to get popcorn before the show starts."

Sam did as he was told.

When they went into the theatre, he looked around, before making a beeline for his preferred seats. "See?" he said to Mallory. "Hardly anyone here. We get the best seats."
He made himself comfortable before looking up at her, still standing in the aisle. "These are ok aren't they?"

Mallory looked around. The seats were in the middle row, on the right of the centre aisle, the first two seats in. "You always sit in these seats?"

"Best seats in the house Mallory," he told her as the lights dimmed. "Come on, sit down, the show's starting."

The film, much to Sam's surprise, was actually pretty funny. He and Mallory both laughed out loud at parts of it, and she moved over in her seat, as close to him as possible. Feeling brave, Sam looked over at her and put his arm around her. He half expected her to move away, but she just smiled up at him and reached over for some more popcorn.

When they emerged into the daylight, they were surprised to see that the clouds had lifted and the sun was shining again. "We might have that picnic after all," Sam told her happily.

And they had.

At the end of the day, Sam had taken her home, and she'd invited him in for coffee. He'd been a perfect gentleman, hadn't stayed the night, insisting that while he'd had a good time, he had to get an early start in the morning, and please don't take it as an indication that he didn't want to stay or that he wasn't attracted to her because he did and he was but…

At some point in his explanation, Mallory got fed up and kissed him. So of course, he kissed her back. That went on for a while, until he remembered the point he had been making, and left. She'd smiled and said that she understood, and that he should call her. He'd promised that he would.

And he had.

Just not when it mattered.

>*<*>*<
Looking back we had so much to look forward to
The kind of love that needs to be continued
And if this were only Tinseltown
By now they would have figured out
A way for you and I to give it one more try
>*<*>*<

They'd spoken on the phone a couple of times since their day together, but then things started happening at the White House. Leo, to use his own phrase, took the Senior Staff off the leash, told them to hit walls, but to do it running. The level of activity, never low to begin with, seemed to quadruple overnight, and the level of energy with it.

And in the middle of it all was Laurie's graduation from law school.

He'd never slept with her, not since that first time. They'd remained just friends; he'd even told her all about Mallory, sought her advice. Laurie had laughed, and told him to stop prevaricating and just go for it. He'd been trying to work up the nerve to do that when he dropped off Laurie's graduation present.

The rest was history.

He'd spent the night on the phone with CJ, or Laurie. And the times that he hadn't been speaking to them, his hand had hovered over the phone, trying to work up the courage to phone Mallory. He knew he had to be the one to tell her. He owed her that.

But morning had come before his courage, and he'd left for the White House, sure that there would be hell to pay. And Toby had torn him limb from limb, and Leo had looked at him like he wanted to kill him, and CJ couldn't be in the same room as him without screaming at him, and in the middle of all that madness, they had a poll in the field and were waiting for the results. He knew he had to phone Mallory, but it was easier to plead his old excuse of business, of working hard, of sacrificing his personal life for the greater good.

That didn't even convince him - how could it convince her?

So he hadn't phoned her. He'd just let it go, couldn't bear to see her hurt face, or worse, her angry one.

When he'd seen her at the hospital, she'd turned away quickly, but not quickly enough. He'd seen hope, relief, hurt and anger all flicker across her face in quick succession before she turned and walked away, and he got the message.

He'd heard through the grapevine that she'd begun to date someone else, and he still remembered the dull ache in his stomach as he pictured someone else picking her up, someone else putting his arm around her, kissing her, letting his fingers run through her hair…

It was the might-have-beens that hurt even more than the what-actually-is. He had a thousand scenarios for what might have happened if he'd actually called her. A million scenarios for what might have happened if he hadn't actually had his picture taken with Laurie in the first place. They might have actually started dating, might have got serious. He had images of long days and nights together, of conversations and events, of families and friends celebrating with them. And in all those scenarios, there was always Mallory. Smiling happily at him as he smiled adoringly at her.

So much to look forward to and he'd let it slip away.

A point which had been driven home to him when he saw her that night at the Kennedy Centre. He'd heard her voice, and when he turned around and saw her, his stomach had literally dropped. Memories didn't compare to the reality of how her hair glinted under the lights, how her eyes flashed, how amazing she looked in that dress. His worst nightmares didn't compare to how sharp her tongue actually was, and he acknowledged that, in that respect, she truly was her father's daughter. He'd managed not to run screaming from the room when she told him how much sex she and the bad hockey player were having, throwing down a couple of cheap shots of his own before an explosion in an oil refinery had come along and saved him.

He never thought he'd be grateful for something like that.

And then she'd sought him out at the end of the night, and she'd got him all puffed up talking about why there was a need for the space exploration program, and he'd called her a pain in the ass, and she'd smiled and he'd smiled, and he'd gone home happy, thinking that they had a second chance.

He couldn't remember why he never called her that time, why he hadn't used that chance to pick things up where they'd left off. And couldn't figure out how he could fix it.

>*<*>*<
And I'd see you in part two
And we'd pick up where we left off
When I lost you
And we'd fall in love again
And change the way the story ends
Yeah, we'd bring back me and you
In part two
>*<*>*<

Memories and questions abounded in Sam's head in his office that night, on his way home, in his sleep. He had a crazy dream about he and Mallory arguing in his office, and Ben Stiller had walked in on them, telling them "If you're going to believe in something, it might as well be love." Edward Norton had been with him, and he'd kept repeating, "Sometimes we don't see certain things until we're ready to see them in a certain way." And over in the corner, Josh and Donna were talking to that Dharma girl, who was telling Josh that if God had worked like Donna he would have made the world by Thursday.

Then Mallory had kissed Ben Stiller, who was suddenly wearing a hockey shirt and a yarmulke and Sam had woken up.

He looked at his clock. Nine o'clock on Sunday morning.

He laid back down and stared at the ceiling for a moment, before an idea struck him. Before he could dismiss it, talk himself out of it, before he could change his mind, he got up, showered and dressed and grabbed his car keys. Without even bothering about breakfast, he left the house.

He found himself at the same movie theatre that he'd gone to with Mallory that morning. The décor hadn't changed, only the movie posters were different. But there were still the smiling faces of Ben Stiller, Edward Norton and that Dharma girl. It would have been too much if the kid in the ticket booth had been the same, but he didn't even make eye contact with Sam as he asked for "One for Still Keeping the Faith please. 10.20 showing."

He got himself popcorn, knowing that he was running short on time. But his luck had held, old habits proving true. There were no lines at this hour on a Sunday morning, and he was confident that he'd be able to sit in his preferred seat.

Except there was someone sitting in it.

He supposed he could sit in the row in front or behind, but when he got closer, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, thinking that his imagination was playing tricks on him.

"Mallory?"

She jumped, a couple of popcorn kernels falling from the box in her lap and landing in front of him. Her eyes widened in amazement. "Sam?"

They looked at each other in silence before the lights dimmed. Sam cleared his throat. "I'll just go and sit…"

"No." Mallory cut him off, already moving in a seat, letting him have the aisle. "Stay." When he hesitated again, she looked up at him, and even in the dim light, he could see the hope in her eyes. "Please?"

The pleading note in her voice was more than he could stand, and he smiled as he sat down and said, "OK."

So they sat side by side for the whole movie. And like the first one, it was pretty funny, and he and Mallory both laughed out loud at parts of it. But Mallory didn't move over in her seat to be closer to him, and he didn't put his arm around her. And they each had their own box of popcorn; there was no need to share.

When the lights went up, neither knew quite what to say. Sam, with all the wit and savvy of a professional speechwriter, might have been the first to speak, but it was Mallory who broke the silence. "Well? What did you think?"

Sam took a deep breath before he spoke. "It was good. But it wasn't as good as the first one."

Mallory nodded. "Sequels never are," she told him, her voice soft. "Sometimes, it's better to leave well enough alone." She looked down at the empty popcorn box as she spoke.

Neither spoke for another long moment, Mallory's words hanging over them. Eventually, she started to move, but she stopped when Sam's hand shot out and gripped her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to stop her where she half-stood. "It's not always like that," he told her quietly, but she never turned to look at him. "Sometimes, the sequel can fix the problems of the first film. Change it. Make it better." She turned to him then, and sat back down in the seat. He still gripped her wrist, but loosened his hold, letting his fingers make slow circles on her skin, not able to stop looking at her.

Her eyes were huge and hopeful. "You think?" she whispered.

Sam shrugged. "Sure. I mean, look at Star Wars. Good, but not great. Then along came Empire Strikes Back which was way better, and Return of the Jedi was the best of the bunch." He let the first prequel alone, thinking that it wouldn't help his analogy, then his heart sank when he realised what a dumb analogy it was.

But Mallory was smiling, and not in a malicious way. "I've never seen them."

Sam straightened up, blinking. "You've never seen the Star Wars trilogy?" Mallory shook her head, that small smile still on her lips. "Well, that's just a crime Mallory. We'll have to rectify that."

Mallory shrugged, but there was a gleam in her eyes that belied her affected nonchalance. "I'm sure there's a Blockbuster somewhere near here."

"Or we could just take them off the shelf in my living room and look at them there."

Sam held his breath waiting for a response, and it was like the sun coming out when Mallory beamed at him. "Well, what are we waiting for Skipper?"

Sam stood, helping her up, not letting go of her hand as they walked into the open air. "You know, I really have no idea."

>*<*>*<
Yeah we'd fall in love again
And change the way the story ends
Yeah we'd bring back me and you
In part two
>*<*>*<

The idea for "Part Two," the title cut off Brad Paisley's second album was
born in a darkened movie theater back in 1995. Sounds romantic. And it would
have been. But Brad was there alone. Watching a movie by himself. The movie, "Father of the Bride Part II," was the follow-up to the movie Paisley and a "certain girl" went to see on their first date. They had long since broken up but when the sequel to "their" movie came out, Paisley couldn't help thinking about her. And wondering if she was thinking about him. "I ended up going to see (the sequel) on the exact day, at the exact same showing that we saw the first one," he says. "I did it on purpose thinking
she might be there, too. Well, of course, she wasn't. No one is that
psychotic except me." Disappointed about his not-meant-to-be romance, Paisley consoled himself by writing a song with his best friend and frequent songwriting partner, Kelley
Lovelace. "We started talking," Paisley says, "and the line came out: 'Hollywood never
fails to make a sequel' and 'Why can't love be more like that?' Then, I
remember thinking that (Part II) would be a really great title for a second
album. And a great concept."